


Twist Snap I love you

by Little_Cello



Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: Dark, Disturbing Themes, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-02-06 18:20:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1867749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Cello/pseuds/Little_Cello
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a way, it was as if he'd decided that he was now king of the world – and the world was only too happy to oblige.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twist Snap I love you

**Author's Note:**

> Heavily inspired by I Am Kloot's ["Twist"](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OeTZTKryH5g).

Alright, it had been a bit of a sticky situation.

 

Gene, alone, in some ruddy basement, no light whatsoever, hands tied to piping behind his back, and a group of psychotic skinhead bastards gleefully discussing just how they were going to off him. He wasn't even entirely sure how they had overpowered him, but that didn't really matter now, did it. He needed to get away, and quick-like, only that didn't seem possible. Everything else seemed more likely than Gene getting out of this unscathed.

 

So he had twisted his wrists in a vain attempt to wriggle out of the ropes binding him and chafing his skin open, listening to the rise and fall of rough voices with one ear, listening to their cruel laughter. He wasn't scared, exactly, but he was aware of a figurative clock ticking, too loud and present for his tastes.

 

~*~

 

_Ever since the train heist, Sam was different, somehow._

 

_Quicker to smile, more ready to laugh._

 

_Easier on Chris and Ray._

 

_Faster to throw a punch._

 

_Cheekier when talking to Gene._

 

_In a way, it was as if he'd decided that he was now king of the world – and the world was only too happy to oblige. Gene didn't quite know what to make of it, but he knew that he welcomed the change as much as it unnerved him._

 

~*~

 

When a sudden silence had fallen, Gene had been so sure that this was it, had tried to brace himself. He wasn't going to go down without a fight, he'd make it as difficult for those bastards as possible.

 

Someone asked a question, and received a gunshot in reply.

 

Gene's head snapped up, but of course he still couldn't see the slightest bloody thing. But he could hear the things that were happening. Shouting - then splattering and screaming, dull thumps and sharp snaps and shrieks of pain.

 

Gene was left sitting motionlessly, heart beating hard in his chest.

 

~*~

 

_Sometimes, Gene would look at Sam, and not recognise him. At first, he had chalked his behaviour down to the need to prove himself to the team – to show that he was loyal now, utterly loyal. And Gene believed him, couldn't help but, with how readily Sam threw himself into tussles, how he ran after suspects as though his life depended on it._

 

_How he sometimes took over the role of Bad Cop during interviews._

 

_It left Gene with an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach, but for once, he chose to ignore it. Sam's smile was too beguiling to question it. He found himself smiling back more often than not, and sometimes feeling a very... clear... longing. A longing which he didn't dare to give in to, not yet._

 

~*~

 

Finally, there was a stretch of utter, deadly silence. Gene stared ahead into the darkness, didn't dare to move. Tried to keep his breathing in control, tried to keep his twisting stomach in check.

 

The door flew open, light flowing into the room and leaving Gene blinded. He flinched, turning his head away, having no idea what to expect. Expecting everything and nothing.

 

Silence again. Then, steps. Measured, unhurried. The clicking of Cuban heels.

 

'Guv.'

 

Gene's eyes flew open, and he blinked against the light, trying to make out anything other than the slim, dark silhouette moving – no, swaggering – towards him.

 

'Tyler?'

 

'That's me.' He could hear the grin in Sam's voice. Only, if Gene had to give a word to how it sounded, he would choose 'unhinged'. He managed to keep his eyes open, letting them adjust, register more details.

 

The easy swagger in Sam's step. His arms, relaxed by his side. The elegance with which he knelt down next to Gene, pulling out a pocket knife to start sawing at the ropes.

 

'Took me a while to find you – sorry about that.'

 

Gene didn't reply – wasn't even looking at Sam's face. His eyes were fixed on his trousers, illuminated by the light from the other room. Fixed on the dark stains covering them up to his knees. Hadn't it been for the accompanying tell-tale stench, Gene wouldn't have been able to tell what it was that had seeped into the fabric like this.

 

Gene's hands were free now, and he felt Sam shift next to him, crouching so that he was directly in Gene's line of sight now. The triangular grin was there, easy and cocky, but there was something else there as well, in Sam's eyes, searching his own. Panic? Relief? A residue of fear? But then it was gone, and Sam exhaled with a laugh. Placed one palm – damp, slightly sticky – on Gene's cheek.

 

Gene couldn't hold Sam's gaze, had to glance down again, down at Sam's legs.

 

'Sam... what did you do?'

 

'Saved your sorry arse, Detective Chief Inspector,' he laughed.

 

Gene raised his eyes again, his throat tight. Sam stared back, the smile still in place, utterly true and honest and  _unnerving_ . The damp hand was uncomfortable against Gene's skin, making it crawl.

 

'There's blood on your legs.'

 

'I love you.'

 

Gene blinked.

 

'You-- you what?'

 

Sam finally lowered his gaze, but only for a moment, only to huff out a chuckle. 'I thought I was gonna be too late, thought – I thought they were gonna get you. Finish you off. Thought I'd missed my chance.' He looked up again, and now there was a feverish glint in his eyes. 'Makin' up for that now. I love you.'

 

And he leaned in, and Gene couldn't for the life of him raise his hands to push Tyler off, because that would have been the rational thing to do, but the truth of what had happened was starting to seep in, and Gene's brain was struggling against it, the realisation, the bile rising in his throat. And so Gene let Sam kiss him, properly, on the mouth, and for lack of anything other than a reflexive reaction, Gene kissed back.

 

~*~

 

_Gene knew that Sam was strong, but these days, he seemed to exceed everyone's wildest expectations. Everyone's but his own, judging by the lazy ease with which Sam stepped over those incidents, where even the most intimidating villains – taller than Gene more often than not – were left cowering and whimpering in his DI's wake._

 

_He hadn't thought much of it, at the time. Had yet again ignored that uneasy twisting of his guts._

 

_Sam was here, he was with them, he was doing a good job. That was what mattered._

 

~*~

 

No one bothered Sam after that incident, didn't ask how in the world he could not have seen the perpetrator who had more or less slaughtered Gene's kidnappers. Gene himself certainly didn't follow up on that, remembering Sam's grin.

 

Always remembering it, even when Sam was fast asleep next to him, utterly shagged out, an arm possessively splayed across Gene's chest. Sometimes, Gene wondered whether Sam felt as sore as he did. He always reached the conclusion that, no, Sam probably didn't feel it. Didn't feel a thing.

 

More often than not, Gene was unable to sleep.

 

More often than not, when he did sleep, he was plagued by nightmares. They always followed the same pattern.

 

_Twist-_

 

_Snap-_

 

_'I love you.'_


End file.
